


Elision

by linbot



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-10
Updated: 2001-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linbot/pseuds/linbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JC is slumped against Chris, rumpled and sleepy looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elision

**Author's Note:**

> For Mia.

JC is slumped against Chris, rumpled and sleepy looking, but Chris is on. He's hyped up, bouncing up to get the door and let the others in.

All the party goodies get tucked away in the kitchen before Chris leads the guys back into the living room, where JC is waving from the couch.

Chris walks up to the couch, leans his head down next to JC's and says, "Game on." JC's eyes meet his instantly, and he freezes in panic. "But..." The other guys are still talking in the background, Justin trying to convince Joey that Shrek should be watched first.

Chris is watching JC carefully. "This is not a joke to me. It'll be fine. But it's up to you." His voice is quiet but firm.

Lance is sitting in one of the armchairs, smiling slightly at Joey and Justin. JC looks up at Chris, who's still bent over him.

"Okay. Yes."

Chris rests his hand briefly on JC's head, and turns back to Justin and Joey. "Shrek, J. Make it so." JC fixes his gaze on Chris' knee and waits.

"Move over, C." Chris pushes him, and JC slips into the corner of the couch, furthest away from the room. JC is glad of the illusion of protection that this gives him. His brain is slowing down. He is not following the guys' conversation any more. There's just Chris. Chris' hands. His warm frame, settling against him. Chris puts gentle pressure on his head, and JC obediently settles down with his head on Chris' lap.

Chris cups a hand over his ear, helping to shut out the noise, until there's just the gentle swoosh of his own pulse. JC opens his eyes briefly, and sees only blurs of colour.

"JC's been up all night writing. Leave him be." Chris' voice pushes against him, and JC stretches minutely. He turns his head down into Chris' denim clad thigh.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." His breath is warm and wet against Chris, heating his own face and his lips feel hot and it's hard to stop saying it. Chris' hand smooths down his hair and he stills again, just breathing. The afternoon stretches out before him, now. No pressure, no pretense required, just a secure place for him, right where he wants to be.


End file.
